ann

The Faces of Breast Cancer project this year will be especially powerful and meaningful for me. In years past, I have been inspired by the subjects I’ve met and photographed; this year, suddenly, I am one of them. I joined a club I didn’t plan on joining, one that just kind of takes you in whether or not you plan on going to any of the meetings… whether or not you intend to carry the membership card secretly in your back pocket or have started adorning your car with magnetic pink ribbons.

There are twelve of us this year, just like every year… one for each month on a calendar that will be printed and handed out to the next group of newly diagnosed breast cancer patients. It will serve as a source of inspiration to those shocked/numb men and women who will have just gotten the bad news from their doctor. Then, the following year, I will photograph some of them, and their picture and story will help the next group (a continually staggering and sky rocketing number) of breast cancer patients, and so on.

(That is, if they do indeed survive.)

The breast cancer survivors I have photographed over the years were the first ones to rally round me when I got my diagnosis. They clogged my email inbox and the mailbox that hangs outside my front door with notes of encouragement: You can do this. You can beat this. You will be stronger after this is all over. You will learn so much about yourself. You will finally understand what is important in life. Hold your family close. Let your loved ones care for you. Be kind to yourself. Welcome to our club. We are here for you.


So, the 2009 calendar is now under construction. My first subject was Ann. Turns out she had no problem following my “assignment.” She is a seamstress who happens to love words. She decided to use the time between her mammogram and the time she actually got her diagnosis to sew inspirational banners for women with breast cancer. She told me she had a very strong feeling that she had breast cancer, but before hearing the words drop out of her doctor’s mouth, she wanted to get used to the idea, “wrap her head around it” as she said. So she set to work stitching words into fabric, words that would help “others” get through their ordeal. Of course, Ann was right about her own diagnosis, and she continued making the banners right up through her chemotherapy, which she just recently completed. The word she chose to hold for the picture, “faith,” is what has helped pulled her through it all.